


A Kiss From a Rose

by GretaDietrich



Category: Classic Hollywood - Fandom, Hollywood - Fandom, Old Hollywood
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Falling In Love, Gay, Greta is cute and innocent, Kink, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Love, Marlene is a kinky bitch, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mild S&M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Old Hollywood - Freeform, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Smut, classic Hollywood, marlene dietrich - Freeform, teaching kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretaDietrich/pseuds/GretaDietrich
Summary: Little Greta Garbo is completely new to the underground Sewing Circle, and immediately falls in love with the sultry screen siren Marlene Dietrich.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Greta is introduced to Marlene. Love and attraction ensues.

1930 

Greta Garbo was distinctly uncomfortable in this new scene, far from the glamour and splendour of MGM's studios. Being about 25 years old, she was still fairly new to the acting world, especially "Talkies." But here, in this little secluded bar, she wasn't acting. To be honest, she would rather have been acting than showing her true emotions at this place. Greta would never have described herself as shy, but the raucous atmosphere of this club made her contrary to her own nature. She blushed shyly at the bawdy jokes and the loose actions of both female and male singers; though one could hardly tell the genders apart in this mismatched array. 

The Swede felt a bit out of place, seeming rather uptight as compared to the drunk and drugged and rather... homosexual patrons. Greta had never considered herself to be a lesbian, until a few moments later, that is. She raised her softly lined eyes at the familiar clack of high heels on wood, and met eyes with another actress. Marlene Dietrich. Greta bit her lip, a little confused as to why Marlene would be around this place. Hell, she wondered why she herself was. Of course both of the women had seen one another in pictures, but had never met. 

”What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Marlene purred at the younger woman. Greta had always been schooled by MGM to never return compliments, but what would this be considered as? Not wanting to be entirely rude, she stood up to greet her; she was even a bit taller than the sultry German woman.   
"No, Miss Dietrich. I sincerely can tell you that no cat has hold of my tongue at the moment."   
Greta winced inwardly, knowing how awkward she sounded after Marlene's casual drawl. But it was what she was used to, being formal, not slinging words around drunkenly like this woman seemed to. 

Marlene fairly snorted, taking a pull from the cigarette clutched between her fingers. "What kind of a response is that, Miss Garbo?" she said rather teasingly, fluttering her gray-blue eyes in Greta's direction. Greta couldn't help but notice that Marlene adorably mispronounced her "r"s. She always had in pictures, but everyone felt it lent a sense of childlike cuteness to her tone. Seconds later, it hit her that Marlene was making fun of her, and she drew herself up a bit indignantly. Greta figured that she must be crasser, more like this motley band of lovers and drunks that Marlene seemed to get along well with. 

"What? Are you Mrs. Dietrich? Is that my mistake?" she asked innocently in her low voice, though the question was pitched in an equally teasing manner. Marlene's mouth opened and closed rather offendedly; Greta remembered marriage was not a favourable subject with Marlene. While Marlene, seemingly outwitted a bit, searched for words equal to Greta's playful barb, Greta couldn't help but gaze over Marlene's beautiful face and body. 

Marlene was a golden goddess to her, with radiant pale skin, big enigmatic blue eyes, friskily curled blonde hair, and a figure carved by angels. Her stance: her weight kiltered onto one leg with one hip thrust out to the side, left no argument as to whether she knew she was beautiful or not. And, oh, those beautiful, famous legs of hers'. Greta noted their slender curves; shapely and seductive. She felt as if she'd been staring at the shorter blonde for hours, when really she'd only been looking for a few seconds; exhibited by Marlene finally coming up with: "Just.... call me Marlene." 

Greta blinked in confusion, expecting Marlene to come back with some witty clip. But she hadn't. She wondered why not, but then flipped the thought aside and ploughed ahead. "Marlene," she rolled the name around on her tongue dulcitly, trying to imitate Marlene's sweet little accent. "That's my name. Don't wear it out," Marlene answered a little roughly. Greta smirked silently, sneaking a glance at the petite lady. She knew she was risking Marlene's somewhat volatile temper by testing her some more, but the Swedish woman did so anyway. "Marlene."

Expecting a sharp word or two, Greta bit her lip. Until she noticed that Marlene hadn't said a word, just taken a couple strides inwards towards her. "You are very testy, little Kätzchen," Marlene reprimanded her in a tone that didn't really suggest she was serious. Greta looked for words to counter Marlene, she came up with, "Well, why don't you say MY name? Too scared for that?" 

She didn't know what Marlene's response would be, and was surprised when the German actress gently reached her free hand out to slip it beneath Greta's, which was hanging at her side. Marlene's touch on her hand was pleasant, her hand was perfectly smooth and warm. The noise of the bar and the smoky lights overhead ceased to exist as Marlene slowly lifted Greta's hand with the utmost of care. Greta's arm seemed to go limp under the woman's touch, and she couldn't have protested if she'd wanted to. She became acutely aware of Marlene's skin against hers', a bit surprised to admit to herself that she wanted more of Marlene's touch. 

"As you wish, Greta." The words seemed to echo to Greta, whispered before Marlene bowed her blonde head to place a tender kiss upon Greta's raised hand. Greta's eyes fluttered closed softly for a bare second, and she could think of nothing else except Marlene's kiss on her skin. 

'It's just your hand, stupid girl. She doesn't want YOU.' Greta quickly reminded herself, lest she start having thoughts that were impossible. Her eyes had drifted down, and met with Marlene's raised ones again. 

A hopeful thought began to form in Greta's mind, brought on by the tender look on Marlene's face: 'Well....what if she does?'


	2. Can't Help But Tell That You Want Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greta learns what it is to pine for a beautiful lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Semi-NSFW: Kissing and brief mention of masturbation/sexual feelings.

Greta blinked out of her daze as a voice rang out through the din. "Lena!" the voice called. Marlene lifted her eyes up towards Greta's again, and dropped her hand slowly, a smirk crawling across her beautiful lips. She flicked the long fingers of her left hand in farewell, taking a drag on her cigarette before she prowled over to whomsoever had beckoned her. Greta continued to stand sort of openmouthed in the middle of the floor, the crowd merely a blurry shapeless mass when compared to the thoughts raging inside her. 

The young Swede had never grown up in a particularly hospitable environment, living in a dirt poor family with no one to truly love and care for her, and no one for her to lavish upon likewise. As a result, she was slightly naive in the ways of Hollywood in all it's glory and scandal, unaccustomed to the social mechanics as well. Feeling slightly dizzy from the combined effects of previous anemia and the heady smell of alcohol and narcotics, she slumped backwards into her chair again, her hand coming up to perch lightly on her temple. 

As the brunette looked up, she noticed something she really did not want to. Marlene was on the lap of another woman, or was it a man? The figure was in a tuxedo, Greta couldn't have told a lesbian from a man in these parts. Their lips were pressed passionately together, the androgynous person's arms wrapped possessively around Marlene's body as they kissed. Greta felt a rush of indignation and hurt all at once. How could she? Marlene had just seemed so loving and tender with her a moment ago? Had the intimacy of even a slight kiss on the hand meant nothing to the German actress? 

Deciding that it apparently hadn't, with tears filling her deep doe-like eyes, Greta shoved her chair back from it's place, and made to hasten from the building as fast as she could. She didn't dare to look back in the direction of the two apparent lovers, her mind relentlessly presenting the thought that she wouldn't be missed by Marlene. The young star knew she couldn't possibly be in love with Dietrich after just a mere encounter in a bar. After all, Marlene was probably drunk out of her mind and would likely have kissed any beautiful woman who'd crossed her path. But still, she couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy. 

Feeling no less upset once she left the bar, she slammed the door of her car. She gripped the steering wheel almost angrily, and then gave a slow sigh. Greta had had affairs with women and men alike before, but they were very quick and had never turned out to mean anything for her when they were over. She blinked her tears away sharply, and wiped the few that had trickled from her eyes with her hand. "Come on Greta, you don't love her. Don't be stupid," she chastised herself as she finally pressed the pedal and pulled away from the bar. 

****** 

 

By the time she got home she was feeling substantially better inside. She decided she must have been more under the influence of her alcohol than she believed, and that it would all be over in a bit. 

Right? 

Wrong. 

The young Swedish woman, no matter how hard she tried, failed to banish Marlene Dietrich from her restless mind. The brunette lay in bed tossing and turning, the sheets making her feel sweaty and feverish. She felt her forehead, thinking maybe she really did have a fever. She didn't. Greta sighed, knowing she really couldn't play it off as a sudden fever dream now. She found herself wishing that Marlene was in bed beside her right now, the blonde's soft and luminous skin splashed with moonlight, her naked body open and serene. Greta's cheeks suddenly flushed with warmth as she noticed familiar wetness in between her thighs. It wasn't often that she got like this for mere thoughts of a woman, and she bit her lip with sudden embarrassment and shame. The small woman shook her head almost vigorously in an attempt to dispel all these thoughts, and shoved her face into her pillow. 

******

 

Greta woke in the morning, squinting her eyes against the sunlight slanting at an angle into her room. Sighing with repressed longing, she sat up in bed and stretched. Refreshed a bit, she yawned and looked out the window, the panes frosty with the early morning cold of the fall. Holding a blanket to her pert breasts, she crossed the room and stood in the warm patch of sun. She was feeling noticeably less confused than the night before, but the longing to see Marlene had not lessened. "That's it. I have to go see her today." Greta made up her mind, and then with a newfound resolve, set to the task of fixing beauty upon her face and body. The young actress curled her hair subtly at the bottoms and created her sultry eye makeup, finally choosing a shapely black dress and a classy coat over it. She looked in the mirror proudly at herself, and placed her hands on her hips. 

She looked around the room again once more before she gathered her courage to leave. 

 

Once she arrived at the studio, Greta felt herself become quite shy, so unlike herself. How could she be shy? She was an actress! Actresses just couldn't be shy! But this one was at this very moment. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Greta swung her legs out of the car and made the solitary walk to the grounds. She went largely unnoticed for the most part, maybe she came too early in the morning for the German woman to be around? She hoped not. She stopped abruptly at the door whose label claimed to be Marlene's. Before she could even steel herself to knock upon the woman's door, the door suddenly swung inward and there she was. 

Marlene Dietrich gave a slow catlike grin at the sight of Greta. Greta flushed indignantly. Marlene seemed altogether too smug... had she purposely tantalized her with promises of her attention and then left her so that Greta would come to her? To make it seem as if Marlene were the desirable woman? Well, she was here now, however it came about. "Miss Greta." Marlene said in her charming little accent, her voice a veritable purr of sensuality. Greta flushed even more at that. Her tone of voice suggested she'd planned for Greta to be around, like she knew she'd be here. She swallowed again, and forced herself to lock eyes with the older woman. "Miss Marlene," she answered in kind. "Oh, please. Call me Lena. Sounds more like what you want to call me," Marlene offered, seeming to read Greta's mind. Greta gave a soft huff, and then followed Marlene tentatively into the room. 

She gazed around the room, strung on the walls with costuming and makeup, and photos of Marlene. Marlene herself was not wearing too much at the moment, just a fairly short dress and nothing on her legs. Rather revealing, Greta had to admit. "Lena.. may I ask you... were you in love with... the person you chose to kiss at the bar.. the other night..." Greta stumbled out, wincing at how shy and childish and even hopeful her words sounded. "Jealous?" Marlene asked, infuriatingly. Knowing she was just trying to draw some kind of love confession out of her, Greta shrank from the bait. "No!" she said rather forcefully, her Swedish accent growing thicker. "Süße, you are so very adorable when you're trying to be angry. I hope that's what you are aiming for," Marlene teased her. The blonde finally relented when she realized that had not had a positive effect on Greta. "If you really must know, no. I am not. I know her, but I'm not in love with her. I may have imbibed a little more than normal that night," Marlene answered, flicking her cigarette's flaky grey ashes into her tray. 

 

Greta was excited at that admission, but she wouldn't allow Marlene to know that. "Liebling, you are so very thin and pale," Marlene suddenly remarked. Greta blinked at the change of topic, mystified by the beautiful sphinxes' motives. At first she didn't want to answer, feeling that this was a barb to her previous poor lifestyle and how obvious it was from her appearance when compared to the plumper Marlene. But when she looked up, Marlene's lovely blue eyes had a gentle and nuturing look in them, not sparking with meanness and mischief. 

 

Before she could speak, Marlene walked over to her, her hips swaying with her usual rawly sensual swagger. Greta wasn't sure how to react when she felt the older lady's gentle hands rest firmly on her shoulders and push her down to the nearest chair, plush and comfortable. "Vhat are you doing?" Her Swedish accent grew thick again, and colour crept up her cheeks, which the astute Marlene traced with one finger. Marlene was still quite close to her, and she was confused as to why she wouldn't have moved away yet. 

 

Greta could do nothing as the other actress slowly leaned down towards her and discreetly slipped a hand beneath Greta's chin, tilting her finely featured face up towards her own. The young Swede gladly met Marlene's lips with her own, tasting the acrid tang of cigarette smoke and Marlene's own distinct taste. Emboldened, Greta bit at Marlene's lip gently and then drew her head away, only to dive back down to gently trail her lips on Marlene's neck. "Liebling!" Marlene gasped softly, one hand coming up to tighten at the back of Greta's hair, fisting itself in her curls. 

"Magst du?" Greta mumbled in German dazedly as she gazed up at Marlene, the German woman's breasts moving a little quicker than normal. "Ja," the reply was whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My little Greta is growing up in this scene :')


	3. All We Do Is Hide Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greta is educated by Marlene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW- make out scene

"Lena, I.." Greta protested weakly between kisses. The brunette was rather greedily claiming Marlene's lips, her hands clutching the blonde into her. A small sense of rationality was tugging at the back of her mind, however. She didn't want to be caught, and have her affections for the sultry Marlene exposed in this way. 

Of course, she relished the thought of the jealousy of others in the profession when it was known publicly that she captured the German woman's attention, but not now. She didn't want to be caught like a lewd harlot in the back room with Marlene.  
"What? You want me?" Marlene answered cockily, smirking a little bit.   
"Lena, please! We'll be caught!" Greta protested, a bit stronger this time. But again, she couldn't bring herself to break away from the addictive feeling of Marlene's kisses and her small hand curled within Greta's hair. 

"I don't care," mumbled Marlene against Greta's neck. Greta was suddenly feeling very overpowered and suffocated by how intensely this woman was loving her, and almost ashamed that she could not love the same way that Marlene could naturally. The Swedish woman raised her hands and pressed them firmly against the blonde's shoulders. 

Marlene seemed to instinctually read Greta's body language, and she drew back, her breaths coming a bit faster than normal. The sight of Marlene made Greta's heart flutter, what with her lipstick smudged like an imperfect spot of blood against snow, and her cheeks flushed as if she'd been running on a brisk day. 

"You don't like it? Did I do something wrong?" Marlene asked innocently, seeming to want to know what her sudden fault was. Greta merely turned pink, as she'd already given her the whole "we'll be caught" speal. The truth was, Greta felt encompassed by the German woman's forceful sensuality and love. She wished to return it, but how could she when she barely knew how? 

"Oh, kleine Maus, I think I know what the trouble is. You don't know how to do it, do you?"   
Greta bashfully looked up to Marlene.   
"Lena... do you... still want me?" she asked, the thought the only one apparent in her mind.   
"Oh, ja! Süße, ich will dich! Let me... educate you," Marlene said as a catty grin turned her lips up at the corners. 

Greta watched with a careful eye Marlene's slightly thrilling swagger as the actress swayed up to her, their eyes locked. The sight of Marlene's beautiful hips swinging back and forth sensually squeezed both Greta's heart and her core at the same time. 

"Relax, Liebling," Marlene murmured as she sat down on the chair beside her, leaning in to begin placing kisses on her cheek and neck.   
"Liebchen, you have such perfect shoulders. May I see them, for I think you're overdressed," Marlene husked in her low voice.   
The request was singlemindedly a yes from Greta, and she swallowed nervously as she fumbled at the buttons of her shirt with sweaty hands. 

"Here, mein Schatz, let me do that for you," Marlene whispered kindly, her deft fingers making short work of the shirt. She slipped it open and let it fall, her blue grey gaze hungrily taking in Greta's creamy skin and graceful shoulders. Not to mention the beautiful black lace bra that adorned Greta's pert breasts. 

Greta suddenly began to feel very naked and vulnerable, and with an effort she bit her lip and forced herself not to cover up again.  
"I look.. so thin. Don't I? Or am I overweight?" she quavered, feeling insecure about what the sexy woman would be thinking of her. 

Marlene snorted loudly. "Neither," her voice dropped back to a quiet tone, and Greta gasped and writhed as Marlene's heated lips found her clavicle and her hands roamed the brunette's shoulders. Those musicians' hands seemed to elicit a burning trail wherever they touched, and Greta shivered as Marlene bit her neck, then laved the mark with her tongue soothingly. 

Impassioned by the embrace, Greta bent her head to kiss Marlene, gasping as Marlene took that opportunity to slip her tongue into the Swede's mouth for a split second. Marlene flicked her eyes up, making sure it was okay with Greta before she left a soft path of kisses along Greta's throat and all the way to her heaving breasts. 

"Liebling, they're lovely," Marlene whispered, and Greta whimpered as the blonde kissed her right breast overtop of her bra. The younger woman arched her back involuntarily, her hands grasping Marlene's hair. 

Greta held a hand over her lips to hold in her quickly growing impassioned cries as Marlene fondled and caressed her breasts and stomach. She would never have admitted it to herself before today, but she was enjoying being "taught" by this voracious woman. 

A soft tingling sensation spread from her inner thighs and lower stomach throughout her body, making her tremble and rub her legs together absently. Marlene was obviously much more experienced, and she lifted her head from where she was toying with Greta.   
"Fresches Mädchen," she whispered, making Greta's colour rise to her cheeks again indignantly.   
"I'm not a "naughty girl"! It is you who is a naughty girl!" Greta felt a bit defensive suddenly, not wanting to be made out to be the instigator of this situation. 

"Don't lie. You want me," Marlene said matter of factly, as if it wasn't possible that someone didn't want her at any point in her life. Greta stuttered, lost for an excuse. 

"I'll tell you what. You with your little shyness complex here, will not work with me. So don't go kissing me and coming to see me only to play around with me and give me this scheiße. Do you want me or not?" Marlene scolded her. 

Greta merely turned red again, not able to answer. She did, of course she did. The young woman had fairly well seduced her. But she just felt too out of her depth, and like who she was previously was having an effect on her beauty and Marlene's perception of her. 

"I think I'll give you some time to think it over. If you want to go, go. Come see me later or write to me explaining yourself," Marlene finally sighed, relenting to Greta. Greta felt morbidly embarrassed that Marlene had been so ready for her, but yet she'd managed to mess it up for herself again! 

The Swedish actress made up her mind that she would take some time to relax and get herself together now, then she would leave Marlene and compose a letter to her, detailing the events of her childhood life and opening up to the sensual woman. She wanted her. 

****

Marlene, for her part, was becoming very frustrated with the little swede. Most of her romantic conquests had been easy pickings, but this little beauty seemed to have some personal baggage that held her from giving herself completely to Marlene. But still, she felt bad for Greta, so new to the Hollywood scene. Probably confused about so many things at once, foundering in a world she had never been exposed to as a child. 

A thought flickered to life in Marlene's head. Perhaps what Greta wanted was not shameless seduction and sex, maybe what she wanted was a housewife, someone to truly love. Someone to soothe her hurts, to nurture and guide the poor anemic little woman back to health. 

Marlene made up her mind that if that was what Greta wanted, she was going to be that someone.


	4. Let Me Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greta opens up to Marlene and is a nervous baby.

Greta Garbo had left Marlene's studio all in a huff, crossing the now more crowded expanse in a hurry. She couldn't do this. She wanted it desperately, but Marlene was just so... Marlene. So... everything she wanted to be. An erotic woman, a successful star, someone who drew lovers of both sexes to her like moths to a flame. 

And she was just... Greta. Poor Greta Garbo. Not even her last name. Poor little Greta Lovisa Gustafsson, struggling to make a name for herself. Dirt-poor in childhood, she felt as if she was thin and wan compared to Marlene's bright and burning star of vitality and personality. Why, she couldn't even be an effective lover to Marlene! She cursed that aspect of herself as she drove home, her anger and resentment towards herself simmering. Could she ever live up to what Marlene wanted, or would she just be a disappointment forever to the German woman?   
She hoped the former. She was even a joke around the studio, with her uncertain somewhat sleepy eyed smile, uneven teeth, and big feet.   
The nineteen year old swede felt like nothing to Marlene, the other woman was so much more, so full of life and love. 

****** 

Marlene bit her lip as Greta left the studio. She didn't have the heart to run after her, feeling dazed and weak. Her heart told her that Greta needed time to herself to work things out. If she wrote to her or showed up at the studio, it would be so. If she didn't, she didn't. What was done would be done. The blonde got up and began to smooth out the evidence of their quick and uncertain passion for one another; reapplying her lipstick and brushing some powder over a darkening mark that Greta had seen fit to leave on her pale neck. 

She didn't want to admit to herself just how much she wanted the simple and sensitive Swedish woman to come back and fall into her arms, just as so many other lovers had. But Greta wasn't as simple as a regular lover. And Marlene knew she couldn't make that so. 

*********

The swede stayed up until late into the night, when her eyes were drooping lazily and her body felt as though she had been run over by a car. Greta had tirelessly composed a letter of great importance to the the blonde, her heart and soul being poured out onto the pages and instilled in her words. 

It read: 

"Lena, my hesitance is not because I do not want you. No, it's the very opposite. I don't want you, so much. It's just, I feel inadequate for you. You, so fiery and so full of everything bright and passionate in this world. And me, so simpleminded and provincial. And so very... uneducated in the ways of the world compared to yourself. Please forgive me for how redundant and indecisive I must seem. I do not wish to, it is only because I truly cannot believe you will love me if you see who I truly am. I'm not only the mysterious and desirable Swede whom nobody has ever caught a glimpse of in public. Oh no, I am so much more than that. I'm just Greta, a poor girl from Sweden thrust into the perils and plunders of Hollywood life. I feel so very small here. I love what I do. Truly. But when you look at me, do you not scorn and feel disappointed at the origins of my life? I can't imagine you would want such a lover. That you would want the public ridiculing your image for falling in love with me. It is not because I do not want you that I say these things, but because I want you so much Lena. I care only for the sanctity of your image, of your happiness, of your everything. I don't hesitate entirely from vices of my own, I hesitate for you. Now please, if you do not wish to see me again, do not answer this letter and do not come to see me anytime or anywhere. If you do not, I will take that as you have found someone else more worthy of your time and attention. I hope to see you again Lena, I wish to hear the warm cadence of your voice, your expert caresses, your kisses against my skin. But if it cannot be done, it cannot be done. Do what is best for you, Liebchen. 

Your's, Greta" 

 

Greta slumped forward in her chair, putting her head in her hands and shaking her head back and forth. She felt clumsy and silly, like a schoolgirl writing a note to her crush. But this was more important than a mere crush. The woman's heart pounded as she folded the letter, sealing the folds with a perfect kissed imprint of her lips upon the paper. She addressed it to Marlene, and ventured downstairs to get it sent. She thanked the person she'd given the letter to, and then stumbled back up to her room like a drunk. 

The brunette collapsed into bed in her negligee, the covers barely over her thin body, though she was thankful that her curves were beginning to round out from the abundance of food away from her old family life.  
"How could she want me?" Greta thought sullenly as she drifted off into a rather exhausted sleep. 

******

The nineteen year old was nervous all throughout the next day of her shoot, a gruelling sixteen hour shift. And it showed. Her director was becoming frustrated with her, his orders becoming more and more snappish as he commanded her about the stage. She could feel her irritation and nerves beginning to boil inside her, all she could think about was Marlene, not the incessant orders and duties of the studio. 

Had Marlene received her letter? Had the blonde actress even deigned to open it? Had she changed her mind about Greta entirely and made up her mind to forget about her and seek someone else's attention? Would she show up? It was almost the end of the day, she should have been here by now if she was going to show up! Maybe she wasn't going to. She could only hope she was. 

"Miss Garbo, you look as if you're feeling ill. Take a rest, we can't film a picture with you looking pale as a sheet and as if you're about to faint,"   
the director finally relented, to Greta's relief. 

Thankfully, she strode over to her dressing room, practically throwing herself into a chair and giving a heavy sigh of both relief and pent up stress. Her body tensed again at a knock on her door. For heaven sake, it had only been a couple minutes! Surely she could take more time! Couldn't they leave her alone for one minute to herself? 

"I don't vant anything. I'm fine," her words came out short and clipped, and she knew it was ungrateful of her and not the nicest of choices, but she was through being nice at the moment. She was through being nice, through with Marlene, through with this whole damn situation! 

"Miss Garbo, I apologize deeply for interrupting, but I'm very sure you'll want this. A most unusual note has just made it's way into my hand. I haven't read it, but it's for you," a stagehand's voice came muffled from the other side of the door. 

Heart missing a beat, Greta sprang up from her chair nimbly and crossed the room with a bound, fairly ripping open the door in her haste. The stagehand blinked, not expecting her to have responded so soon, as she had been so gruff in her near dismissal. 

She tossed an absent thank you over her shoulder when the note was placed into her sweaty palm, and she closed the door with her foot, not paying mind to the stagehand's face as the door closed in it. 

Her hands trembled as she opened the neatly sealed note, and sure enough, it was signed with Marlene's name in writing at the bottom. She gulped softly, and set to reading it, fervently praying for the best of outcomes. 

"Greta, I'm sorry for pressing myself upon you with such force and no regard for your feelings and insecurities. Your letter was very passionate, and I admire your courage, my sweet. You are not what you think you are. You are as glowing and fascinating as any woman or man I've been with before, no less. Perhaps more than some. Your past does not change the present, at least not for me. You wouldn't be the same person you are today without your childhood, would you? And I wouldn't want you any other way. Now, my beautiful Liebchen, Greta Lovisa Garbo, I invite you to show up at my house after your shoot, as I do not want to distract you by coming to spend time with you on set. I look forward to seeing you there. 

Deine Lena,"

Greta trembled with relief at the content of the note, love and joy rushing through her body. A huge weight felt as if it had been lifted from her shoulders by the hands of God, and she crumpled the note slightly from the strength of her passion as she held the note to her face like a salvation or a prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave kudos and comments on my work :)


End file.
